“Back in 2020, I heaped an enormous amount of praise upon Effigy of Nightmares, the third full-length album from Ohio’s Valdrin, and while that record constitutes the exceedingly rare occurrence where time tempers my initial enthusiasm (I’d probably bring it down to a 4.0 at this point), I still hold it in high regard. I was caught up not only by Valdrin’s melodic black metal songwriting ability but also by the band’s incredible brand of storytelling.” Lords of stories.
“Second-wave black metal worship is like that regular at your local dive: omnipresent, predictable with their order, and armed with the same old stories for whoever happens to be within earshot. They’re not bad for business per se, but familiarity has been known to breed contempt. And few styles are as familiar as Norwegian black metal of the early ’90s, inspiring generations to revere and—occasionally—innovate upon that trademark of “trve evil.” Enter mercurial Dutch black metallers Salacious Gods, rising from the ashes of self-imposed exile to bring us their first record in 18(!) years.” Salacious layoffs.
“I beg your pardon, Svartkonst–but it appears you got your corpse paint on my cargo shorts. Over the course of two albums, Rickard Törnqvist–until now the only member of this Swedish outfit–has been concocting and refining his signature blend of Entombed-core Swedeath and Watain’s fierce approach to melodic black metal. 2020’s Black Waves was a revelation and a highlight of that dire year, taking the best of Svartkonst’s influences and boiling away whatever Törnqvist didn’t need. Not since the mad lads over at Reese’s had their mishap with chocolate and peanut butter has a mashup gone so swimmingly. Now Törnqvist is back with a five-man touring lineup in tow, as Svartkonst drops new long player May the Night Fall.” Be-Twix and between worlds.
“It’s been eight years since the band released their lukewarm Antiliv album, and I’ve been craving the nastiness that makes them so great ever since. While many will argue Antiliv was a great album, it lacked the energy the band typically brings to the table. No matter who this duo hires on the drums, everyone gives it all to each release. But I didn’t quite feel that on Antiliv. It doesn’t matter if you disagree because Helvegr doesn’t give a rat’s ass about our opinions.” Tsjuder jumping.
“The band has been prolific since forming in 2016, and are already releasing their fourth album. I really enjoyed Fragment: Erhabenheit and its snarling black metal attack, so when its follow-up suddenly fell into my lap, it was a pleasant surprise indeed. Let’s see if Theotoxin’s new work can match up to the old.” Toxic blackulinity.
“The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and nOObs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if two three aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography.” Vote Goatwhore.
“As I approach the end of Belphegor’s catalog, I’m reminded of how consistent the band has been for the last 25 years. Even other AMG writers have given equal praise to the band’s material—regardless if it’s 1997’s classic Blutsabbath or 2011’s monstrous Blood Magick Necromance. As the band moved into this hard-hitting era, Belphegor’s output didn’t disappoint. You can attribute their success to familiarity and consistent deliverance of concussive riffage. But, after all these years of comfortability and expected outcome, something looms in the skies above Austria. Whatever’s in the air, Belphegor has partooken. And it isn’t what you expect.” The Devil has tricks.
“I stare up into the desert sun, already exhausted from the thought of searching the pit for something to review. Covered in sweat and reeling from the hangover induced by the hourly AMG hobo wine IVs, I approach the pit. I close my eyes, anticipating the bite and venom in my veins, and grab the first promo off the top. It reads: Cruentus – Fossilized – black/thrash metal.” Gems in the bone pit.
“I’ve been sitting on this one for some time. Label it black metal and give it enchanting artwork, and Madam X is all over it. Even before passing it over to me for review, she was pre-ordering the vinyl. And for good reason. On a white backdrop, that tree-covered moose walking on mountains is one of the more original album covers of the year. But the artwork isn’t the only good part of the album. Under that mysterious cover lies a thick slab of Norwegian black metal.” Kvlt Moose is loose.
“No one likes to be misled. Money is tight, we have bills to pay, so we all wanna know what we’re spending our precious cash on. When you see an album entitled “Sworn to Profound Heresy,” with a cover featuring malevolent-looking priests surrounding a burning church, you probably think you know what’s in store. When those clouds of billowing smoke feature an image of the dark lord, and the band is named after a church sexton, you might think that this was some satanic, second wave-worshipping black metal, probably from a bunch of European veterans. Well… you’d be absolutely right!” Maximum Satan.
